Hockey Romance Books Spicy นิยาย & เรื่องราว

As soon as my classes were over, I stomped over to the arena and sought out Ace on the ice. I walked on and slowly made my way closer so he could hear me. “Ace Huxley!” I screamed. He spun around and almost fell on his ass when he heard me. “Isla!” His face lit up as he took his helmet off and skated over, but it quickly fell when he saw how pissed off I was. “What happened?” “Have you been going around telling people we’re sleeping together?”

“My name is Spicy, and I’m here to give you the full VIP experience. My rules are no touching, no happy endings, and if you need extra time, you’ll have to……” “No need for the speech,” he interrupted smoothly. “I already know who you are. You were all over the news last weekend after Jace Harrington got into a fight over you. That got my attention. My name is Nico. Nice to finally meet you, Spicy.” He leaned in and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. His touch was light, but it made my skin crawl. “I had to see for myself what made the almighty Jace Harrington lose his mind over a stripper. You smell sweet… I wonder how you taste.” He teased.

"Try me." Before I could say anything, he leaned in and kissed that exact spot. It started soft, then he sucked lightly, his tongue brushing my skin. A small moan slipped out of me. It felt way too good. He pulled back after a few seconds, admiring his work with a satisfied smirk. "There. A nice little mark. Looks good on you." I touched the spot, feeling the warmth. "You're trouble, Asher." "The best kind," he said, voice lower now. His eyes had darkened, staring at my lips like he wanted to devour me. The vibe between us shifted. Our casual hockey conversation got intense really quick. Asher's hand moved to my waist, drawing me in.

COLLEGE ROMANCE Written by: Authoress Ricky 🦋 Chapter Fifteen 🦋 My eye were close shut but after I didn't get any kiss from him, I open my eye and saw him staring at him. "What were you thinking" he use his finger to wipe the ice cream on my lips and lick it before he poke my nose making me squeak. "That hurt" I said rubbing my nose. "You are really dirty minded" he teased and I roll my eye and step away from him angrily. "Don't be mad at me you, weren't actually expecting me to kiss you"a smirk form on his lips and I knew he was playing me.

"Get your heads in the game! If I see one more lazy pass, you can all spend the rest of the week running laps until you puke!" Sloane’s voice echoed through the Chicago Storm locker room like a gunshot. She paced the length of the tiled floor, her footsteps heavy and uneven. Every time she shifted her weight, she felt a sharp, lingering ache between her thighs. The memory of the concrete floor and Tatum’s rough fingers flashed through her mind, making her core tighten. She was still sore, her pussy feeling swollen and sensitive from the intensity of their encounter in the tunnel. The physical reminder of Tatum’s dominance was driving her into a frenzy of irritation.

“Course it’s you. Smell like… like fucking shit. Sweet. Makes my stomach flip.” “Jesus Christ, Rivera, shut up before you throw up on my shoes.” I hauled him up. He was lighter than he looked, petite, yeah, cute in that annoying way that made my brain short-circuit every time he skated past me. Shirt hanging open, chest all flushed, nipples hard from the cold. I hated how fast my dick noticed. “You’re a mess. Somebody spiked your drink, that should be it.” “Did they?” He grinned like it was hilarious. “Explains why I wanna touch everything. Especially you.” His hand shot out, palm landing flat on my chest like he owned it.

This private version of him I always saw; unguarded, comfortable, real. I rounded the corner. I stopped breathing. Lucas. His hands were tangled in blonde hair. His mouth on someone else's mouth. Kissing her like this wasn't his first time or even new to him. I stood there, my legs shaking slightly and my head spinning with both shock and confusion. She pulled back just enough to smile. It was Mara Rivers, sharp and beautiful, the girl who smiled at him and waved at every game. Mara Rivers, the sassy cocky bitch.

“Excuse me?” “You heard me.” Jax stepped closer, towering over him. His lip curled. “Figure skaters prancing around in sparkly shit, bending over for each other in the locker room. Bet you love sharing showers, huh? Getting all close and personal with your ‘partners.’” A couple of hockey players nearby chuckled, glancing over with interest. Elias’s jaw tightened. He was used to the occasional jab, sports worlds colliding, but this felt targeted. Personal. The guy’s eyes burned with something darker than casual homophobia.